


Unsteady

by unwindcx



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Death, Drug Use, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Heroin, Human Wade Wilson, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulative Peter, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is a Little Shit, Peter-centric, Recovery, SIKE, Sad Ending, Strained Relationships, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, aunt may is disappointed, peter is sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 23:14:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17069018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwindcx/pseuds/unwindcx
Summary: Peter is a broke college (dropout) student with a bad habit and wasted potential. Wade is his drug dealer.





	Unsteady

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Thanks for reading this. Please please please consider leaving kudos and a comment, it helps me out a lot <3

Peter wakes up and immediately reaches for his phone. He wants to hit up his dealer, but he knows that he will be seeing May today. And May equals money. If he shows up off his ass, he knows May will notice. And he knows that means no cash. And so with the thought of sweet, sweet cash in mind, maybe getting through today without being higher than a giraffe’s balls won’t be that difficult. Seeing Aunt May on the other hand, however...

Actually getting out of bed is a struggle. He considers cancelling his plans, but after mulling it over a bit, he is whipped back to place by the driving force of today: cash. His addiction keeps him hungry for money. So he will shower, at the very least. Hell, maybe he’ll get crazy and eat something, as he does need to keep up the appearance of sobriety thing he has going on. Unfortunately, looking dirty, strung-out, and malnourished will not do. So he finally gets out of bed, pointedly not taking in his surroundings and heads towards his kitchen, already feeling overwhelmed. Trying to stay on track, he figures eating breakfast would actually be a good way to start his day. It is the second-most important meal of the day; Right after his daily dose of “happiness” right into his veins, of course. He opens the fridge and peers in. Nothing but jam, butter, and curdled milk. Yum. Jam and toast it is! 

He pops some bread in the toaster, after scraping the mold off, of course, and leans against the counter. He lets himself get lost in his thoughts. He thinks about how much he could use some self-medication right about now. But then he reminds himself that in order for things to work out, he must be sober. The last time he used was right before he fell asleep, so he probably won’t truly feel the full effects of withdrawal until after he’s done at Aunt May’s house. So unless Peter Parker’s Shitty Luck™ strikes again, he should be fine. See everyone, addicts can be sensible, too! But in all seriousness, he truly doesn’t want May to see him dopesick… again. Their relationship is strained as it is, and he knows that he already worries her to no end. He feels horrible about it. Almost as horrible as he feels for using the kindness in her heart for money.  
Peter is pulled out of his thoughts (thank god) by the smell of his toast burning. He presses the eject button and inspects the toast and sighs. It isn’t completely charred. So he carries on and smears jam all over it to hide the god-awful burnt taste. He puts the jam away and leans against the counter, munching slowly as he checks his phone. He decides to shoot a quick text to Wade.

P: Hey. You gonna to be around later tonight?

He’s finishing the last bite of his toast when his phone buzzes in his hand a minute later.

W: wasnt planning on it but i can be, cutie. ;)

 

Wade is flirtatious. Peter doesn’t have time for that.

P: Cool. Thanks man.

He sets his phone on the counter and heads to the bathroom, stripping as he goes. He turns on the shower, sending a silent prayer to any god up there, please let there be at least be warm-ish water. Obviously, Peter lives a life of luxury. While he waits for it to (hopefully) heat up, he looks to the mirror to inspect himself. He turns to the side, observing; His ribs stick out a little too far, and his stomach not quite far enough. He turns and leans over the sink to look closely at his face, all dead brown eyes and pale skin, topped off with lovely dark circles. His lips are cracked and his eyes look dull. His hair was a mousy brown and sat unruly atop his head. He decides then that he hates himself. (underline that 3 times, highlight, bold, and circle profusely. Repeat it in your head 549 times; Then, and only then, will you grasp the feelings of absolute loathing he harbors). But what’s new? He laughs to himself. Maybe he can get a job as a model. Is Heroin Chic still in? After he feels he has scrutinized himself enough, he steps into the shower. By some miracle, he is met with lukewarm water. A true blessing. He scrubs days worth of sweat and grime off of his body, and washes his disgustingly filthy hair. He steps out feeling like a new man. Now, he has to get dressed; will this hell ever end? Will Peter Parker be able to (stumble) jump over this hurdle? Who knows.

He cringes as he steps into his bedroom, noting just how badly he needs to clean it. It’s hard to believe he has been living like this. But before the incoming existential doom can overwhelm him, he opens his closet in search of something that would hide how gaunt he has truly gotten without looking trashy. Don’t want to alarm May. He finally decides on a grandpa-esque sweater that hangs off of his slender frame. Perfect. He pulls on a pair of black jeans, and about 3 pairs of socks. Finally, he quickly inspects himself in the mirror, making sure he looks presentable. He messes with his hair a bit, inspecting himself over again. Finally, he is pulling on a jacket and a beanie, and heading out the door. As soon as his feet hit the concrete his stomach twists unhappily. Because of course it would. He will be fine, he tells himself. He has to go today. It is cold and he is tired, but he powers through it. In another life, Peter might stop to appreciate the wisps of snow falling from the sky, or the neat looking buildings in this area of the city. But that just isn’t his reality anymore, he isn’t the same Peter he used to be. Now his brain is consumed with drugs and money and you know, just generally trying to survive. 

It is a fairly long walk and by the end of it, his legs are hurting so bad he isn’t even thinking about his stomach. Small mercies. He walks up to an apartment building much nicer than his own and enters the foyer area, where the callbox is. He enters the familiar code with stiff, shaking fingers. He doesn’t ever think he could forget that code, May has lived here for years, and it’s funny how even the smallest things like the damn door code could remind Peter of his past life. Could bring him back and it is painful. So instead of letting himself fall into that, he blocks out the thoughts and lets himself in, beginning the seemingly endless journey up the stairs. 4 flights later and Peter is standing outside May’s door. He is almost too nervous to knock. He doesn’t know why necessarily, he just knows that he feels the need to leave and the need to stay all at once; The need to run into her arms and cry and tell her everything, and the need to remain stone-faced and closed off and fine. 

 

Finally, after another eon has passed and the earth has succumbed to the inevitable heat death of the universe, he knocks on her front door. He hears some scuffling inside, and then the door opens and May is standing there, in front of him, in the flesh. She is all warm smiles and open arms. What else is he to do but practically fall into her arms? She laughs, running her fingers through his messy hair. And suddenly he’s wondering why he always waits so long to see her, why he dreads this moment every single month. She pulls back, stepping back and beckoning for him to come in. He steps into her apartment and is immediately hit with nostalgia and memories. Some good. Some bad. He pushes them all down. She closes the door behind him and finally, she speaks.

“I missed you, Peter. You know that you’re welcome anytime, don’t you, dear?”

What she really means is that she’s worried about him and wants to see him more so that she can know that he is alright, versus having to worry until she receives his monthly drop in and can gauge for herself.

“Yeah, May. I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy.”

And then she is leading him into the kitchen and he’s feeling horrible for lying to her. The lies keep piling up. They chat while they cook, small talk to fill the emptiness. At one point, Peter starts to shiver. Which would be fine, if he wasn’t sweating bullets. And then May is asking if he’s alright and another lie is rolling off of his tongue. He tells her he is fine, just a bit under the weather. Must have a bug. Peter is slowly going insane knowing that he is keeping secrets and lying to the person he loves the most. 

Just when he thinks he is about to cave and tell her everything, they are done cooking. And then they can eat, shovel food in their mouth to replace the hollow words and pretend their relationship is fine, that Peter is on the right track and that he never took a wrong turn. He can pretend that she isn’t losing her sweet little Peter bit by bit and she doesn’t even know it. 

 

And then when May asks about his apartment, she is really asking if he needs rent money. Peter turns red in embarrassment because he should be working and making his own money, not mooching off of his elderly aunt, who has had enough struggles in her life. He is a month late already, with no money for this months rent.

“To be honest, May,” he trails off, guilt gnawing at him. But he knows how to play this game. Make her feel bad and he will reap great rewards. The price is his guilt. “I’m behind on rent.”

She sighs, but he can tell that out of the goodness of her heart (and the desire to have a house to herself) that she is already thinking about how much money she is going to waste on give to him. And then she is changing the subject. “How’s the job hunt going?”

He consciously makes an effort to add a tinge of sadness to his voice, to really convince her. “I’ve been looking, honest. I just can’t seem to find a job. You know how it is nowadays.” And like that, there is another lie.

She nods, acknowledging what he has said, but going back to her food. He can tell she is disappointed and it stings, a bit. He knows that he should be in college, studying biochemistry. He knows that he should not have dropped out. He had potential, and was on the path to working in a forensics lab, or maybe even at the Stark tower, if he was lucky. But he went and ruined all of that. And for what? Some opiates, that’s what.

Finally, it is time for Peter to leave. He is relieved, to be honest. As he is leaving May stops him.

 

“Here.” May is handing him a check for this month and last month’s rent, and pressing a wad of cash into his hand. “For groceries,” she smiles at him, kissing his forehead. She trusts him again. And Peter knows she shouldn’t, and he wants to scream and sob and fall into her arms. He wants to tell her everything. But he can’t. He is alone in this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much, if you got this far.


End file.
